


The Academic

by Cumberfluff



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cumberfluff/pseuds/Cumberfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie, a PhD candidate, meets Benedict while attending a performance of Gatz in London. They hit it off immediately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Great Gatsby Affair

“You're loving this, aren't you?” Charlotte yawned and stretched her arms discreetly as we walked through the far set of the theatres glass doors. When we were a few feet from the entrance I lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. “What, 8 hours of Gatsby done in a way I'd never even imagined before? Pretty much!” More people flowed through the doors and joined us on the street, all eager for some fresh air or, like me, some smoke in their lungs.

“I can't believe you're making me sit through this!” Charlotte moaned quietly before pulling her phone from her pocket and tapping away on it. She had never read The Great Gatsby. She was lost. But I had paid a small fortune for her ticket, as well as her train fare and hotel, just so I would have someone to accompany me. I was regretting it. I loved her dearly, she was my best friend, but our interests had become further removed since I began university. When we were both at college we would talk for hours about some novel or other; Atonement, The Notebook, The Time Travellers Wife. Now she was working full time for the NHS and I was a literature student. What time she had for reading she squandered on cheap fiction like Confessions of a Shopaholic and Fifty Shades of Grey. Whereas I spent all my time reading and analysing the classics, for pleasure I read Fitzgerald. He was my academic specialism and my personal favourite. “Charlotte, you have to really pay attention. Appreciate it. Don't just sit there wishing it was over.” I stubbed out my cigarette and covered her phone with my hand to get her attention.

“It's 8 hours though. 8 hours of something I've never read!”  
“That is the point! This is a reading. An elaborate one, but that's fitting for Fitzgerald. You don't have to have read it because it's being read to you, word for word. And acted at the same time.”  
I sighed in exasperation as she gave me a blank stare. I removed my hand from her phone and she continued to text. I sighed again and she looked up at me half amused and half apologetic.  
“You knew I wouldn't be into this. It's easy for you. You're an expert on this Fitzgerald bloke.”

I laughed at her and from over my shoulder I heard a deep, rumbling laugh accompany my own. I turned my head. I recognised the laugh already. It vibrated through me, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. Benedict Cumberbatch was standing not two feet away from me, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he reined in his laughter. His eyes fixed on mine and I was reminded of an aerial photo I'd once seen of the Great Barrier Reef. “I do apologise,” he chuckled, “I've never heard Fitzgerald described as a 'bloke' before.” Charlotte frowned at him and her cheeks flushed crimson. I felt a pinch of pity for her, but her refusal to even try and enjoy the play was grating on me so I smiled at Benedict and chuckled softly. “My friend is not quite the Fitzgerald fan that I am,” I said as he walked closer to me.  
“Are you just a fan or was your friend not exaggerating when she dubbed you an expert?”

Now it was my turn to blush as Charlotte slipped her phone back into her pocket and joined the conversation.  
“Evie is an expert,” she said proudly. I couldn't help but smile at her. “She's doing her Ph.D. on him, aren't you, Evie ?”  
Benedict raised his eyebrows at me, impressed. “Really?”  
“Well, it's actually on expatriate writers and the Lost Generation, but Fitzgerald is a key player.” My cheeks burned again and I silently chastised myself for sounding like such a know-it-all.  
“How did you get into Fitzgerald?” Benedict asked as he stubbed out his own cigarette.  
“She read him at uni,” Charlotte chipped in, trying to be helpful. I wondered if she had any idea who was stood before her.

“I did study him during my first year but it was before that that I formed my appreciation for him. Actually it was because I read somewhere that he died on December 21st, my birthday. Many years before I was born, of course. But it sparked something in me and I got This Side of Paradise out of my local library right away.”  
“Impressive,” Benedict said as he rocked casually on his heels, his hands stuffed into his pockets.  
“It's the only thing I am an expert on though,” I said with a laugh.

“No it isn't,” Charlotte offered, “not by far!”  
Benedict's eyes widened as he looked from Charlotte to me.  
“Go on.”  
“She's also an expert on that Fitzgerald guys wife,”  
“Zelda,” I blurted, unable to stop myself.  
“Yeah, her. And on slavery in America-”  
“Not slavery as a whole, just the Fugitive Slave laws and the Slave Trials of the South,” I smiled in embarrassment as Benedict looked at me with intrigue. Charlotte tapped me on the arm with the back of her hand excitedly. “And you write poetry, short stories and newspaper columns.” She smiled to herself, obviously pleased with her ability to remember my many talents. My cheeks burned brighter still and I felt my shoulders slouch slightly as if the weight of all these things reeled off in a list was too much to carry. I suddenly wished Charlotte had stopped at Zelda.

Ben rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a low whistle. “That is impressive for someone so young.”  
“She's 24,” Charlotte interjected.  
Just then a bell sounded from within the theatre and the crowd started to make its way back in. Ben looked around at the flurry of people before looking back at me and biting his lip as if trying to decide what to do. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a little card from a hidden pocket.  
“This is my number,” he said, one corner of his mouth turning up slightly, “can you call me maybe? If you want to. You know, to discuss the play or something,” and then so quietly I barely heard it, “anything.” he rubbed the back of his neck again and tweaked his ear lobe nervously. Charlotte had already started following the crowd back into the lobby and she grabbed my forearm and pulled me after her. “I will, definitely,” I said as I was tugged away from Ben. After we'd found our seats again I scanned the auditorium to see if I could clock him but he was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was sat in a VIP box somewhere up above us. As the lights dimmed and the curtains squeaked open I tucked the little card into my pocket and sunk back into my seat, smiling to myself.

~~

“Are you going to call him or what?” Charlotte asked as I emerged from our en-suite. She was sprawled across the huge twin bed with her legs flapping around in excitement, he phone clasped tightly in one fist. “Have you told anyone?” I asked hastily as I clocked the phone. Charlotte looked down at it. “No!” she cried as she flung it onto the pillow. “Of course not. I'm not completely stupid.” She gave me a little wink as if mocking her earlier disinterest in the play. “So, you gonna call him?” She wagged her eyebrows at me and I burst into uncharacteristic giggles.

I grabbed my jeans from the floor and pulled out my phone and the little card Benedict had given me. “I think I'll just text him first,” I said as I looked at Charlotte for support, “just in case he's changed his mind about giving it to me.”  
“Okay, but saying what?”  
“Something like 'Hi Benedict, I thought I'd text you so you have my number too'?”  
Charlotte pushed herself up and sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed.  
“That works,” she said.  
“Okay, here goes.”  
I wrote out a text, deleted part of it, wrote it again, repeated the process. Charlotte snorted and reached to grab the phone from me.

“Benedict, it was lovely to meet you today. I hope you enjoyed the end of Gatz. I thought I would text you so that you have my number. Charlotte and I are about to head out to dinner, any recommendations? Evie.” She looked up at me blankly as she considered it.  
“Okay,” she said simply, passing the phone back to me. I looked down at it ready to re-read the text only to find a 'delivery successful' message staring up at me. She'd sent it. I gave her daggers and she fell onto her back in fits of laughter. I moved to hit her playfully with a pillow when my phone vibrated and beeped in my hand.

“Read it! Read it!” Charlotte cooed.  
“Give me a minute,” I clicked onto the message, “'Evie, I thoroughly enjoyed the end. I would suggest you try Carluccio's in Hampstead although that may be selfish of me as I am planning on eating alone there tonight'.” I looked up at Charlotte who smiled back at me and wagged her eyebrows again. “He-eee wants yoooou!” she said in sing-song as she leapt from the bed and snatched my phone. She was too quick for me. Her fingers danced across the screen as I chased her around the bed. “There!” she cried as I narrowly missed her. She flung my phone onto the bed and I snatched it up. “We can keep you company. See you at 8pm,” I read it aloud and flashed her a disgruntled frown. “Charlotte,” I moaned as I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, “now what?”.

~~

When we arrived at the restaurant Benedict was already seated and waiting for us. He stood as we approached the table and pulled chairs out for both of us. Over dinner we talked a lot about the play. Benedict humoured Charlotte by saying he thought 8 hours was a bit too much as well and joined her in laughing at me when I admitted I'd have sat through more, winking at me discreetly so I knew he was doing it to make Charlotte feel at ease. When we had all finished eating Charlotte said she could feel a migraine coming on. I felt my phone vibrate through my bag and checked it under the table. It was a text from Charlotte: 'Gonna say I feel ill and go back 2 hotel. U 2 go 4 drinks or somethin. Im just gonna call James tonight anyway :)'. I caught her eye and she nodded her head once to say 'it's fine'. Benedict called her a car to take her back to our hotel and paid the driver. As we stood and watched the car pull away Benedict stepped closer to me so our arms were touching and I felt a rush of excitement and nerves run though me like a jolt of electricity.

“So,” he said in a low rumble, bending slightly to get closer to my ear, “do you fancy a night cap?”  
I turned too quickly and almost head-butted him. He jumped back with a laugh then took my hand in his. “I live right around the corner,” he bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows in a question, “or we could go somewhere else for a dri-”  
“Your place is good,” I interjected quickly trying not to sound too keen but not wanting him to think I wasn't interested.

He opened his front door and I followed him in. The ground floor – there were three floors in total – consisted of a dining room and kitchen, all open plan and leading out onto a patio area dotted with outdoor furniture and a narrow but lengthy lawn. I whistled as I took it all in. “I know,” Benedict said as he grinned down at me, “I can barely believe I own it.” We both laughed and he took my coat, hanging it in the hall way. “There's another kitchen on the second floor, just a tiny one, and the lounge.” I followed behind him as he led me up the staircase. I couldn't refrain from admiring his arse; it was right in my face and I had an overwhelming urge to squeeze it. I resisted. Just.

~~

“You have more books than me and I'm an academic!”  
Benedict stood behind me as I admired his bookcase. He handed me a glass of wine over my shoulder and I felt goosebumps rise on my arm as his hand brushed me lightly. “I have quite a vast disposable income,” he said, his laugh rumbling in his chest.

I plucked a hardback copy of The Great Gatsby from one of the shelves and flicked through it.  
“And they're all real... 'It's a triumph! What thoroughness! What realism!'” I closed the book and slipped it back onto the shelf. Benedict was laughing more now and I was glad to be in the company of someone who could appreciate my ability to quote Fitzgerald.

I turned around. His proximity caused he me stumble backwards so my spine was against those of the books. Ben took the glass from my hand and placed it down on the window ledge next to him along with his own glass. I took a deep breath as he turned back to me. He stretched one arm out above my head and held onto the edge of a shelf, leaning his whole weight on it. His other hand was on my waist and before I could take it all in he dipped his head and joined his lips to mine. They were soft and I could feel the line of that cupids bow. I snaked my arms around his neck and parted my lips to let his tongue slip into my mouth. It teased mine gently and I returned the pressure, pulling myself closer to him so our bodies connected. Benedict pulled his head away and looked deep into my eyes.

“You move as if you enjoy the ability to fly but are walking as a compromise to convention,” he whispered as he dipped his head again and kissed my neck. I tilted mine and ran my fingers through his hair. Benedict Cumberbatch was kissing my neck and he'd just paraphrased Zelda Fitzgerald to me. I felt like I was in a very, very realistic dream. The hand he had on my waist slid down to my thigh and lifted my dress. He fixed his eyes on mine and I understood the question in them.  
“I want you,” I answered.

He moved his hand from the hem of my dress and in one fluid motion he lifted me into his lean arms and walked me to the sofa. He placed me down gently and climbed on top of me so that my bare legs ran between his knees. He unbuttoned his shirt and I reached up to slide it from his shoulders, holding his gaze. It fell off of him and he flung it to one side. I traced my hands across his chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath my fingers. I followed the line down his stomach where the tight muscles of his six-pack met. As I reached his trousers he stopped my hands by covering them with his own.

“I don't just want tonight,” he whispered as if he were scared of the words. I pulled one hand free and cupped the side of his face. He pushed against it and nuzzled my palm with his nose before kissing it.  
“My train is at 3pm tomorrow,” I said. He chuckled softly and his eyes changed from pale to bright blue.  
“I didn't mean that,” he smiled down at me showing his teeth and I found myself strangely turned on by their slight crookedness. He was not all Hollywood like I feared he might be.  
“Oh,” I whispered.  
“I want to see you again after this,” he said as he let go of my hand on his zipper. He placed his hands palm down on my stomach and I noticed the intimacy and easiness of it all.  
“I have all the time in the world.”  
He smiled.

“And until I hand in my thesis I still have a student rail card,” I winked at him and he burst out laughing. That deep rumble of his shuddered through me pleasantly.  
He bent down to kiss me and I unfastened his trousers. “Off,” I mumbled between kisses.  
He jumped up swiftly and obliged. His trousers fell to the floor and his boxers quickly followed. I tilted my head to one side and raised my eyebrows at him.

“It's been up since we walked through the door,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as if to say 'what do you expect?'.

I stood and slowly slipped out of my dress, letting it fall to my feet. I kicked it aside and Benedict closed the gap between us. He removed my bra with one fluid motion and I stepped backwards and slipped out of my knickers. Our bodies pushed against each other as Benedict showered little kisses all over my neck and chest. He ran his tongue around each nipple and gently grazed them with his teeth. I let out a little moan and he flashed me a toothy grin. As he kissed me on the mouth I stepped backwards towards the door.

We reached the door frame and he put out his hands to stop me going any further. “Bedroom,” I said decidedly. He nodded hungrily and bit his lower lip. I followed him up another flight of stairs, our bare feet padding along the wooden floor. He flung open the door and I was greeted by a huge bed. Bigger than any I'd seen before. I looked up at Benedict and he smiled. “It's sort of a double-double. I rarely get to have lie-ins so when I do I like to enjoy them,” he said as he walked to the bed and turned back to face me. I approached him slowly and he stroked my upper arms with the backs of his fingers. I placed one hand flat against his chest, covering his heart. I felt it pounding beneath his hot skin. I pushed him down and he sat on the edge of the bed obediently. I moved to sit on his lap but he held his hands out. “Wait,” he pointed to the bedside table, “condom.” I fetched one and ripped the packet open with my teeth, trying to be sexy but feeling rather silly. I spluttered as a little bit of foil stuck itself to my tongue. Benedict laughed at me softly and gave me a warm smile. He reached out and grabbed my forearms, pulling me onto the bed beside him. He took the condom from my hand and threw it to one side. “This doesn't feel right, does it?” He scrunched up his nose at me.

“It's not that it doesn't feel right,” I replied “it's just a little... out of character for me.”  
He nodded at me and wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into him. He kissed my temple lightly. “I kind of feel like this is a one night stand.” My heart sunk a little and I let my eyes fall from his but he kissed my temple again causing me to look back. “Hey,” he said with a smile, “what I mean is I don't want this to be a one night stand... So I don't think we should sleep together now. I think we should, you know, date.”  
I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him. As I pulled away he smiled at me sadly. “I'm going to take you back to your hotel.”  
“Okay.”  
“But you'll come back soon?”  
I kissed him again.  
“I'm free every weekend.”


	2. Always Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict surprises Evie by turning up at the university with his parents.

The office I'd been given when The Journal of Modern Literature had picked up my thesis for publication was huge. It was right at the end of the American literature corridor on the 13th floor and took up a whole corner of the building. It was nice that the university were taking pride in one of their PhD students, but it made me feel slightly awkward when the smaller offices around me all belonged to staff that had lectured me through my undergraduate degree.

It was just past 6 o'clock on a Friday evening and apart from the low buzz of the tube light above my head the only sounds I could hear were the faint laughs and occasional cries of enjoyment drifting over from the Student's Union across campus. I got up from my desk and poked my head out into the corridor. The sensory light flickered on. I listened carefully for a moment to be sure that I was the only person still in before slipping back into my office and turning on my ipod dock. I flicked through the playlists until I found the one entitled 'Marking' and turned the volume up a bit. As Alabama Shakes' Always Alright, started to play I sunk back into my chair and tried to focus.

My thesis was complete. It had been for almost a month, but I couldn't work up the courage necessary to hand it over to my supervisor. So for almost a month I'd been sitting at my desk every day going back through the 80,000 words I'd painstakingly written and redrafted over the course of 3 years. I could probably have recited the whole thing back to front, endnotes included, without a single mistake.

I closed the document and swung round in my chair so that I was facing the whole office. There were posters lining the walls, each one representing a big part of who I was; my Fitzgerald book cover posters, my Beasts of the Southern Wild film poster, my US map of American writers and my NT Live Frankenstein poster – Ben had been thrilled and amused when he found it rolled up in the corner of the room the first time he'd visited. I'd took it down to avoid having to answer the inevitable question of how big a fan I was. Luckily he used my own excuse for me by asking if I got it while I was an usher at my local independent cinema. He didn't need to know that they'd given it to me months before I got the job there.

My eyes flicked to the bookshelves laden with heavy textbooks and dog-eared novels. I felt a pang of sadness and shook my head to dispel it. I hadn't just been avoiding the submission of my thesis over the last month, I'd also been buying time with the job offer the department had presented me with. Since I'd decided way back in the second year of my BA to become an academic the only place I'd imagined working was there, at the University of Leicester, where I'd fought for a place and run societies and worked my arse off to get my PhD placement, and where I now had an office filled to the brim with little bits of my soul. The only problem was that now Ben was in the equation, and Ben wasn't in Leicester.

As my eyelids fell shut and Otis Redding's Cigarettes and Coffee began playing a loud crack resounded down the corridor, followed by a string of muffled expletives. I shot up from my chair and, grabbing the nearest blunt object I could find, slowly opened the door to my office. The sensory light was on already, but I couldn't see who had caused the commotion. Tentatively I walked towards the end of the corridor. Just as I turned the corner into the hall Ben came tumbling out of the men's toilets. He looked up and jumped lightly at the sight of me standing before him. “Bloody hell,” he gasped as he tried to catch his breath, “were you planning on attacking me with that Norton Anthology?” I stared at him for a moment and he smiled back at me, his arms raised at his sides slightly, palms upturned, as if ready to embrace me at any given moment. In one quick motion I let the tome of a book drop to the floor with a thud and flung myself into his chest, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could.

“I didn't know you were coming.”  
He placed his hands either side of my face and kissed me gently, lingering for what seemed like a gloriously long time. “That was kind of the idea,” he motioned to the table under the notice board where his helmet and a squashed packet of something lay, “I was going to leave a trail of chocolate kisses down to the bench outside and wait for you there but then I noticed they'd all melted in my jacket pocket and then I dropped my helmet and... Well, I'm sorry.”  
“Sorry?” I squeezed him tight again, “Even if it did go terribly wrong it's still the sweetest idea I've ever heard. Thank you.”  
“Did I disturb you?”  
“You saved me, come on.”

Ben followed me down the corridor and into my office. He draped his jacket over a chair and threw the packet of melted chocolate kisses in the bin. “We could have eaten them still,” I said through stifled laughter.  
“I have more.” He moved around my desk and sat down in my chair, motioning for me to sit in his lap. “So what were you busy doing before I came bustling in and spoilt the fun?” I reopened my thesis and let Ben read a few lines. “Ah... Hold on,” he scrolled through to the end of the document then back up again, “Is this... Is it done?”  
“Yes.”  
“Yes?” He looked at me with a mix of excitement and confusion. “Then why-”  
“I'm not ready.”  
I felt his hand trace the line of my spine up until it came to rest at the nape of my neck, his fingers playing softly with my hair. “How long?”

I met his gaze and smiled. Ben and I had been together for almost a year. Since meeting in London we'd taken it in turns to visit each other whenever we could. If we added up how many hours we'd actually spent together it would probably only equate to a week or two, but in that time Ben had seemed to absorb every little detail about me to the point that he was finely attuned to my every move.

“About a month,” I said with a sigh.  
“Okay. So why?”  
“I guess I'm scared of what's next.”  
He squeezed my thigh gently with his other hand. “They've offered you a job, haven't they?” he asked. I twisted in his lap and buried my head in the curve where his neck met his shoulder.  
“Take it.”  
I straightened up again and he looked at me intently. “Take the job. It's what you've wanted for years.”  
“But it's here.”  
“Exactly.”  
“But what-”  
“Evie, I knew coming into this that your academic career was your number one priority, and while I hope I'm at least a close second, I would never try to change that. So you have to take the job and we have to start splitting time evenly between here and London.”  
I blinked at him. His smile was sad but sincere. I ran my fingers through his soft, brown hair and across the stubble growing on his chin and cheeks. I dipped my head and let my lips part as they met his. Our kiss was slow and tender and hungry and passionate all at the same time. After a moment we parted and Ben's smile was no longer sad, but hopeful. “It'll all be fine, you know,” he said as he tucked a piece of stray hair behind my ear.

As we walked out into the night Ben took my hand and squeezed it tight. I looked up at him and he smiled and nodded his head in the direction of the benches outside the library. I looked over and saw a man and woman huddled together, holding hands and smiling at us. I looked back at Ben. “Surprise!”  
“Wha-” is all I could get out before Wanda had me in a bear hug. She held me out at arms length and looked me up and down with a huge smile on her face. “Let me look at you, you're even prettier than he led us to believe.”  
“Mum,” Ben said as his cheeks began to grow red. Timothy laughed and patted his son on the back before offering his hand out to shake mine.  
“Oh Benny, don't get all embarrassed.” Wanda said.  
“I'm sorry, I'm a little crumpled from sitting in my office all day, I wasn't expecting to meet you here,” I flung my arms out, gesturing to the university, then crossed them slightly awkwardly. Ben moved to stand beside me and put one arms around my shoulders. He kissed the side of my head and his parents shared an amused look. “Should I have told you?” Ben asked.  
“No, no it's a lovely surprise,” I replied.  
“I booked us a table at Memsaab for 8 o'clock.”  
“Oh,” I looked at Ben slightly horrified, “I need to change.” He laughed at me and bent his head down so he could whisper in my ear, “You're cute when you're nervous,” before addressing his parents, “We can go back to Evie's flat now, so that we can get ourselves ready, then we'll get a cab from there.”

“I just need to – um – one minute,” I said as I ran around my flat trying to tidy away discarded clothing and lecture notes before Wanda and Timothy could decide I was too messy for their son and leave.  
“Oh well this is a lovely little place,” Timothy said as he walked over to my desk and glanced at the notes strewn across the table. He picked up one of the books that lay open, post-it notes sticking out of every other page, and examined the cover – Lynching to Belong. “Sticky subject matter,” he said as he smiled at me and put the book back exactly as he'd found it. “Most American history is,” I replied, making him chuckle softly. “Please, make yourselves at home. I'm sorry for any mess, it's almost the end of term so I've been bringing piles of marking home with me.”  
“It's lovely, dear,” Wanda said in earnest. I smiled and moved behind the breakfast bar to my tiny kitchenette to fill the kettle.  
With Ben's parents present I realised just how tiny my tiny place was. I never really noticed before because it was the first place I'd lived on my own so it still felt quite big to me. The front door opened out into a narrow hallway, which in turn led on to the living area, two thirds of which was carpeted with a two-seater sofa crammed against the back wall and another under the window. My desk took up a whole corner of the room. I'd invested in a large, but still modest, flat screen TV which presided over the room like a framed Monet, its importance only reinforced by a large bookcase half-filled with books, the other half devoted to DVDs. The final third of the living area had lino flooring, separated from the carpet by a long breakfast bar and three high stools. The kitchenette consisted of a few overhead cupboards, a worktop with a microwave tucked into one corner, a hob and cooker unit, a washing machine, a tumble dryer and in the bit of empty space under the worktop, a mat with two dog bowls; one for water and one for food.

As I scuttled off to my bedroom to freshen up and change clothes, Ben made tea and sat with his parents chatting about the flat and the area. From my room I could faintly hear Ben say, “It's a bit like Hampstead on a smaller scale... really nice houses... about £300,000.” I stopped with my tights midway up my legs and shuffled to the door. I opened it an inch and listened. “... thinking about it then?” I heard Wanda ask. I clapped my hand to my mouth to avoid making any noise. Either I was mistaken or Ben was considering moving to Leicester. I quickly pulled up my tights, slipped my dress over my head and grabbed my shoes before heading silently out to join Ben and his parents, hoping to catch the end of their conversation.  
“I just think it would be a better place to bring up-” Ben was saying. He trailed off as I entered the room and jumped up from the sofa as if I'd caught him doing something terrible. “Everything alright?” he asked.  
“Great,” I said with a smile, “I'm ready when you are.”


	3. Erase/Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie is struggling to make a decision about a job offer. Benedict takes her mind off things.

“Dr. Mercer!” I quickly jabbed at the open doors button in the elevator as the American Studies department secretary hurried towards the closing gap. She slipped in just in time and caught her breath.  
“Just call me Evie, please Linda, you've known me for long enough.”  
“I know, but you've not long had the title, you should use it before the novelty wears off.”  
We both laughed as the elevator made its slow ascent up the tower. Linda flicked through the thick diary in her hands. “So, the faculty Christmas party is in three weeks, I need to know if you're using your plus one.”  
“Oh, um... Is everyone else?”  
“The majority. It's become quite the couples night,” she said, “Are you worried about bringing Benedict?”  
“Not so such. I just wanted to check, you know, so he wasn't the only partner there, like I was showing him off or something.” Linda returned my smile and nodded understandingly. “But if everyone is bringing a plus one then I will too.”  
The elevator stopped at the thirteenth floor and I got out, turning back to say goodbye to Linda. It was midday and I had an afternoon of marking ahead of me, so I headed straight for the staff lounge and made myself a cup of coffee before going to my office. It was a dreary November afternoon and the rain was hammering on my office window. I sipped at my coffee as I sunk down into my desk chair and waited for my computer to boot. Before I had a chance to open my notes for the module I was planning, Ben's face popped up in the middle of my screen. I started a little then composed myself, realising that it was just a Skype call. I turned my speakers up and clicked “answer”.

“Morning,” Ben said affectionately as he tried to stifle a yawn. His hair hung in tousled, black curls across his forehead and his strong neck and chest were bare, framed by a white bed sheet wrapped around his shoulders.  
“It's 12.30.”  
A mischievous smile played across Ben's mouth. He looked down at himself before looking back at the web cam. “Then perhaps I should put on some trousers,” he said with a wink.  
“Might be a good idea.”  
Ben's face softened. “What's the matter?” he asked as his web cam shook. The room behind him began to shift and I realised he must have been carrying his laptop in front of him. “Have I caught you at a bad time? I thought you were free at lunch.”  
“No,” I felt guilty as I watched him readjust the bed sheet and sit down, “Sorry, start again?”  
He smiled. “Do you want me to get dressed? Is the mere thought of me naked distracting you?”  
I leaned closer to my laptop as if trying to peek into his lap. “It's a distraction I can live with.” He laughed. “Eyes up here doctor. So,” he ran a hand through his curls, “what moral conundrum did I pull you out of?”  
“There's no fooling you,” I said, resisting the urge to call him Sherlock. “I'm missing you.” His brow furrowed sympathetically. “Not long now,” he said with a smile, “we wrap in two days then I'll be back up for a week.”  
“I know, it's just harder than I expected it to be. I've only got three weeks left to decide if I take the job or not. They want me to start after the Christmas break.”  
“Are you enjoying the teaching you're doing now?”  
“So much, but there's always this little voice in the back of my mind going 'something is missing, something is not quite right'”.  
Ben turned his head away from the screen and shouted, “Just a minute!”, before turning back. “Sorry darling, the bell went. It's probably mum,” he stood up, letting one arm free of the sheet to reach down and pick up the laptop and I could tell he was walking back to the bedroom. I felt a sudden pang in my stomach as I wished I was there with him, watching him quickly pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his hair ruffling up in the process. He leaned down and tilted the screen up so that his face filled it again. “Got to love you and leave you. Call me when you're home.”  
“I will do... Oh wait, Ben?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Still on for my staff Christmas party?”  
His smile widened showing his endearingly crooked teeth, “Definitely. Talk to you later!”  
The screen went black and I exited Skype.

The rest of my afternoon was measured out in cup after cup of hot, black coffee. I marked essays and tried to plan modules for the following semester. Each time I thought I had something my eyes fell on the contract in my in-tray that was awaiting my signature and I lost my thread. Spending time away from Ben was proving to be a challenge for me and with every phone call or video chat I came away feeling an intense reluctance to stay in Leicester.

When 5pm rolled around and the light outside my window had started to wane I shoved my papers into my bag and slipped on my coat. It was bitterly cold outside and the residue of rain on the park I walked through to get home had transformed into a light frost that hinted at the oncoming winter. As I made my way home I listened to The Cardigans and tried hopelessly not to apply the lyrics of Erase/Rewind to my dreams of lecturing at Leicester university. By the time I reached my front door and turned the key I was repeating the words in my head, “I've changed my mind, I take it back.” I shook them away and flung my bag onto the table in the hall. I knew that nothing good would come from trying to do more work that night so I changed into my pyjamas without hesitation and settled myself on the sofa, television remote in one hand, glass of wine in the other.

As the credits of The Holiday rolled on the television there was a sharp knock at my front door. I set down my glass of wine and walked through to the hall, checking to make sure I still looked remotely decent in the hallway mirror. I open the door to find Ben standing there, right up against the door frame as if he'd tried materialising through the wood and failed.

“Hello,” I said as my lips blossomed into a smile. I felt my cheeks grow rosy as I looked him up and down, took in the slightly wonky smile, ruffled hair and those oceanic eyes. He placed the palm of one hand flat against the door and pushed it as he took a step into the flat, causing me to stumble backwards slightly. “Ben, I -” I started to say as he kicked the door shut again.  
“Don't say anything,” he replied. He dipped his head and caught my lips with his. Mine parted immediately and I felt his tongue tease mine as his hands drew up my back slowly. Before I could question his presence on a night he was supposed to be filming we had made our way to the living room. The only light in the room was coming from the television and a few candles I'd lit on the coffee table. As Ben broke away from me to pull his t-shirt over his head I admired the warm glow they candlelight cast on his skin and the slight shadow of his collar bone. I reached my hands out to trace the line down his stomach and the V shape of his pelvis that disappeared into his trousers. I looked up to find his eyes on me, his pupils dilated, his mouth turned up gently at the ends. “You said you'd call me when you got home.” His voice rumbled through me and I felt myself falling forward into his chest. He placed his hands on my waist and kissed me again. “I should tell you I miss you more often,” I replied. His laugh was deep and seductive. I let him slip my t-shirt up and over my head and it fell to the floor. “You should,” he said as he unhooked my bra in one swift motion. Within minutes we were both free of unwanted clothing leaving a trail behind us from the middle of the room to the sofa.

Ben sat down and pulled me onto his lap so I was kneeling over him with one leg either side of his. I reached my arms up to untie my hair. As I did so he slid his hands up my back and shifted forward to place his mouth around one nipple. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as my hair tumbled onto my shoulders and Ben's teeth nuzzled my nipple gently. He moved one hand to my other nipple and teased it with his thumb and forefinger, causing me to gasp and grab at his shoulders. He snapped his head back quickly and pulled me into him, kissing my neck and moving his mouth back up to meet mine. As his tongue danced in and out of my mouth I moved my hips forward and reached one hand down to his cock. He stopped kissing me momentarily as I closed my hand around it and I felt him let out a long breath which tickled my cheek. Taking my chance I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him back into the sofa cushions. As I lowered myself down and felt him fill me completely I straightened my back. He closed his eyes as I started to roll my hips lightly. When his eyes opened again they were darker than I'd ever seen them. His arms wrapped around me and I fell into him, my breasts pushing against his chest and sending a shock of pleasure through my already erect nipples. Ben's mouth closed on my shoulder and he nibbled at my skin as he thrust himself deeper into me. I tried to straighten myself again so that I could kiss him but his arms were locked around me. He let out a little groan as I shifted my weight and I did it again, provoking him to muffle “Oh Evie, you're so good,” into my shoulder. I smiled to myself and decided to push him even further by contracting my pelvic muscles so that I tightened around his cock. “Oh God,” he said, letting his arms loosen. I straightened up and cupped his face in my hands. Our kiss was deep and desperate. I rolled my hips again and he bit my lip in reaction. I felt his thrusts quicken and I knew he was close. I found his right hand and moved it down to my crotch. His eyes flashed as he realised what I wanted and two of his long fingers slid across my clit. I gasped sharply as he began circling it and I knew that it wouldn't take much for me to catch up with him. I felt the waves of pleasure grow as he teased my clit. “I'm gonna come,” I whispered as he thrust deep inside me. He took his cue and pulled me close again, wrapping his arms around me tightly and thrusting hard and fast. The orgasm reached him seconds before it hit me and our bodies convulsed into each other as we kissed clumsily. I lifted myself up and felt him slide out of me. He kissed each nipple tenderly then traced one hand across my back. I kissed him softly and stood up. “Coffee?” I asked as I walked barefoot, and bare-body, to the kitchen. “I think I need it after that,” he replied as he remained on the sofa trying to catch his breath.


End file.
